


Self-Indulgence

by vespertineflora



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexual Bucky Barnes, M/M, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vespertineflora/pseuds/vespertineflora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky touches himself for the first time in seventy years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Indulgence

“I think it could be therapeutic for you, if you’re up to trying, of course.”

His therapist’s words echoed in his head, not haunting so much as reminding. Their last session had been nearly a week ago, and Bucky had given the idea a lot of thought since then, even if he hadn’t acted on it quite yet. Bucky knew there was no pressure of course, but... he agreed with Dr. Harding’s thoughts on the matter and thought it was worth a shot.

He really did like his therapist. She was kind, insightful, and seemed to know just what to say. He’d been working with her for months now, first only at Steve’s request, and soon because he’d found it helpful. She’d been helping him recover and deal with his memories and the trauma he’d been through, and he wasn’t quite sure how much farther behind he’d be without her help and was glad that he didn’t have to think about it.

In their last session, they’d gotten to talking about sex and sexuality. Bucky had only earlier that day learned that gay marriage had been legalized in more than half the country, and when he’d brought up the new knowledge with the doctor, they’d ended up talking about it, about Bucky’s thoughts on it, about why it was relevant to him.

“I’m attracted to women,” Bucky had admitted to her with a little shrug, “but I don’t think I’d turn down a good looking man, either.” Bucky had never actually been with a man, but... he’d looked, and he’d liked what he’d seen, even if he’d kept his desires close to the vest, hidden, for safety’s sake. He’d kept whatever feelings he had for Steve even closer than that. Even with as open as he’d been with Dr. Harding, he wasn’t ready to admit that to anyone quite yet.

Dr. Harding had explained different sexualities to him, that there was more than just straight or gay, a fact that opened up Bucky’s eyes quite a bit, before the conversation drifted naturally to Bucky’s history, which Bucky didn’t mind talking about. He wasn’t in a relationship, of course, and at this point, he wasn’t looking for one (well, not technically), even if the thought of sex still appealed to him. When the doctor asked if he masturbated, Bucky admitted that he didn’t or at least that he hadn’t in a while; she asked when the last time was and he had to think a minute before telling her that it probably hadn’t been since the war, since before his fall.

That was when she suggested that he try it. She thought it might help to once again reinforce the idea that Bucky was the one in control of his desires, that he was free to seek out pleasure at his leisure. When she said that the potential reason that Bucky hadn’t pleasured himself was because he hadn’t been allowed to for so long, the idea definitely hit home with him. That had certainly been the reason why he’d been so far removed from every other pleasure and comfort imaginable, at least. There were still days when he’d feel a sudden pang of guilt or regret while eating a delicious meal, while taking an unreasonably long hot shower, while Steve let him lay down next to him on the couch and combed fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, as if he didn’t really deserve those things, as if expecting sudden punishment for indulging himself.

Maybe it was why he was failing so horribly now, he was too wrapped up in thinking to actually focus on the too-soft task that was quite literally at hand.

He’d woken up with a hard on about ten minutes ago, which was hardly an unusual occurrence in the mornings, but instead of ignore it, as he had for a very long time, he decided that now was as good a time as any to put the good advice he’d received to use. 

He’d started stroking himself through his boxers, and was nearly at full mast by the time he slipped his hand under the elastic waistband, but he’d lost traction since then; he’d gotten too wrapped up in serious thoughts, instead of fantasies, and was frustratingly soft now. 

But Bucky was nothing, if not stubborn. He shook off the apprehension, and pushed aside his mental gymnastics for some much simpler fantasies. He took a breath, closed his eyes, and imagined some pretty blond woman going down on him.

It did the trick. Once he stopped thinking so much, and just focused on the sensation of his hand running up and down his cock, he began to stiffen again, slowly but surely. He built up a nice, gentle pace as his hand moved along the shaft, thumb massaging the head, slowly remembering exactly how he liked to be touched. His fantasies lingered for a bit on the pretty blond in his head before drifting, as fantasies were wont to do, moving on to think about some brunette he’d seen in a magazine not too long ago.

He huffed as his hand worked, just taking his time and enjoying the sensation. It really had been a long time since he’d touched himself for any reason other than washing, and he’d nearly forgotten how good this felt, the gentle pulse of pleasure that throbbed through him, the heat of his hand moving over his erection, the racing of his pulse, the harried breathing. It felt damn good, and the longer he went the more he regretted not trying this sooner.

His mental images shifted again, looking for something nice to fuel him. He wasn’t in a hurry--Steve was the only one around, and Steve wouldn’t bother him in the morning, because he was just happy when Bucky could actually get to sleep and stay that way, so Bucky knew he had plenty of time, but he was steadily getting more eager to finish. The faces in his head changed, one imagined pretty lady after the next (because that was what he knew he’d been used to thinking about back in the day), their faces almost blurring together when... suddenly there was a new pretty blond with a hand wrapped around him, but it was no lady.

The thought of Steve touching him drew an unexpected moan from his throat, and his cock throbbed dully, suddenly needing so much more; his hand moved faster. It was wrong, it was so wrong, and Bucky knew he’d stopped himself from having this exact fantasy in the past, but god, he couldn’t stop himself now. The feelings of guilt had all been pushed aside to be dealt with later, and that included the guilt that would have previously come with the thought of jerking off to his best friend, so that all he could think about was how damn good it was to think about Steve’s hand stroking him, to think about Steve kissing him, to think about Steve moaning against his skin.

He was gasping for breath as his hand moved faster, squeezed a little tighter, his hips rocking up into his hand as he thought about Steve’s mouth wrapped around him and holy shit, that felt good, he could feel the steady build of pleasure that threatened to crash down on him like a wave crashing against the shore, looming, looming, taller and taller as he imagined the heat of Steve’s mouth, the touch of his tongue and hands on his thighs, and fuck, fuck, Bucky should have been doing this sooner, he should have been--

Finally, the wave crashed; Bucky came with a sound that was almost a growl, and he blanked out for a second at the pleasure, unable to feel anything but the sharp tug of the orgasm shooting out onto his stomach. He shuddered as he stroked himself through it, panting hard and heavy as he came down and eventually went soft in his hand.

He laid on his back for a little bit, just breathing, feeling sated and weak and unwilling to move, because moving meant thinking about something other than how very fantastic that had felt, and thinking almost definitely meant guilt and he needed absolutely none of that shit. He didn’t need to feel ashamed the next time he tried to look Steve in the eye.

But the negative feelings were already edging their way into his brain as he reached for a tissue to clean himself up and he didn’t think he could stop them on his own, didn’t think he could completely cope with the feelings for Steve that had been slowly overwhelming him for the past few months.

He had a therapy session later that day, though, and he thought maybe it was time to... let someone in on that information. Maybe it was time to figure out just what he should do about it.


End file.
